Somersaults in the alleyways of historic Cairo? Gamal Nkrumah enjoys the spectacle Disbelief is more resistant than faith because it is sustained by the senses -- Gabriel Garcia Marquez Acrobatics has no automatic claim to be art. It is something between a sport and a dance. It has neither an auspicious nor a propitious claim to universal appeal. Watch a harlequin do trapeze. Clowns do knee hangs on a high bar and make funny faces. Acrobats, too, spend an awful lot of time with their feet off the ground. Yet for all the excitement it generates, street clowning has become a dying art. The street circus used to be a major mode of amusement. Entertainment clown-style was once commonplace in Egypt. Now people do not have time for watching clowns, or so I thought until I became conscious of the crowds surrounding me in the vicinity of Al-Muezz Street in the heart of historic Cairo. Who said people have no time for clowns and acrobats? I surveyed the people, young and old, watching the show and saw how their jaws just dropped. The trapeze-based workout never fails to hold the attention of adults. Adolescents are more into fire shows. Younger children love magic shows. Comedy shows are for the elderly, or the more discerning viewer. However, it was the perplexed "disbelief sustained by the senses" of the hard up children of Al-Darb Al-Ahmar that most captured my imagination. Their enfeebled little faces, lit up to the flickering lights of the shadow show, convey a sense of their surreal surroundings. They shoot the acrobats' truculent knowing looks, exchange glances, and the glimmer of interest in their rueful eyes. The clowns are at it again. They get on ropes and get on top of one another and step-out into space. These are artists doing some creative performances. And people respond to their jumps and thumps. Al-Mawred Al-Thaqafy (Cultural Resource) with the support of the European Union, minister of culture, Foreign Cultural Relations and Egypt's Tourist Authority staged the first International Circus Festival (6-23 October) at a magnificent display of talent on historic Al-Muezz Street after night prayers. Stilt walkers roam the back streets of mediaeval Fatimid Cairo. Fire eaters and jugglers mixing and mingling with the perplexed crowds of contemporary Cairenes. Walkabout performances, to the wows of the watchers, enthrall all and sundry. I was quite excited about the rare opportunity to see the clowns in action in such a surreal setting. It was a memorable closing ceremony. "We aim to revise simple entertainment spirit that folk circus creates as well as to expand audience base," Ashraf Kenawy, the festival manager, tells Al-Ahram Weekly. "For me personally, the most heart-warming moments were during the workshops when I saw the faces of the children cackling, karkar as we say in colloquial Egyptian Arabic," Kenawy explains. Huddled in street corners, the children of Darb Al-Ahmar are having a whale of a time. They clap spontaneously and jump up in joy. "Every country, every culture has its own sense of humour and its own expression of the clownish," Kenawy extrapolates. "These kids understand that certain forms of entertainment are universal." The clowns steer the children through glittery-lit antique- lined alleyways of historic Cairo, the shadows of the performers gleaming and not uncongenial against the mediaeval walls delight the deprived children of Darb Al-Ahmar. The children's faces light up as they watch the clowns and were asked to participate at the workshops. The delinquents' bony, malformed, ill-shaped, and contorted faces bespoke of suffering and deprivation. These children are vulnerable to delinquency and are subjected to unlawful child labour precisely because their parents have no other means of livelihood. The impoverished parents of these children are forced to send their children to work as apprentice mechanics, or they use their Lilliputian, nimble fingers in rug and carpet sweatshops, or upholstery workshops. Motley mix and mingle and walkabout performances were also staged at Darb 17 18, a unique Cairene cultural centre in the heart of Old Coptic Cairo. Again, the festive mood prevailed. The jugglers and comedians performed at Cairo's famous Al-Ballon Theatre in Agouza and at Al-Geneina Theatre at Al-Azhar Park eerily facing the City of the Dead. The clowns were swinging in the air. Each of the performing groups had a tale to tell as well as a special trick up their sleeves. The Palestinian Circus School performers told their story of perseverance amid the brutality of their Israeli oppressors. CirkuSzinhaz of Hungary were sensational and Ecole de Cirque de Liban equally amazing. With Les Trois Points de Suspension of France, Starsbugs of Switzerland and Circus Rotjeknor of the Netherlands, they dazzled watchers with their terrific tricks at the closing ceremony. "As long as you behave well, there is nothing wrong with being funny," Kenawy chips in. Electric Circus, a British group, are quite simply electrifying. They left Cairo for Gaza to perform before Palestinians, children and adults alike, in the hellholes of the besieged seaside Strip. The hawi, an improbable combination of clown and magician, of yesteryear comes to life. He is a character long forgotten in Egyptian folklore. "We don't have in Egypt a school to teach circus performance. Yes, there has always been a tradition passed down from father to son or daughter of circus performing families -- the Helw and the Akef families, for example. But this is a dying art," laments Kenawy. "What we've done is revive the tradition of the hawi in a modern way. We set up a school for teaching acrobatics and clowning in the Darb Al-Ahmar School of Performing Arts. We sent our proposals to various donors and were lucky, some like the European Union responded." "At first the parents of the children aged eight-18 had grave reservations. They preferred that their children earn a living as child labourers. Then with our grants we stipulated stipends and the parents confiscated most of the money, but at least permitted their children a chance to enjoy clowning, fooling around and enjoying their childhood while being paid for their newfound happiness. We also taught them exercises so that we can build their bodies like young athletes. They loved it all." With the participation of 14 different performing groups representing 12 European and Arab countries, the children of Darb Al-Ahmar had a chance to perform and learn from the groups that came from Europe and the Arab world. "We also have Egyptian trainers from the National Circus of Egypt. They train the children of Darb Al-Ahmar on a voluntary basis." The Cirque de Liban, the Circus Baf of Belgium, Magma Fire Theatre of Hungary all taught the children of Darb Al-Ahmar some daring tricks of the trade. Acrobatics, magic shows, comedy shows, fire shows and left the children spell-bound. "We have about 25 boys and girls of different ages. Egypt has many film festivals, musical festivals, book fairs and other cultural events, but there has been no street circus festival until now. We are pioneers, we have faith in the future." I reflect in silence that the faith Kenawy speaks so animatedly and expectantly about is as resilient and profound as the "disbelief" Gabriel Garcia Marquez bespeaks sustained as it is by the childlike senses, the innocence with which the clowns convey in the shadows.
